The Three Paradises

by Robert Fabbri

  ‘We?’

  ‘Yes, I shall come with you and lead the attack in person.’

  ‘And be seen as a foreign invader at the head of a foreign army? Are you even more stupid than I thought? Surely not? No, you’re just drunk. I shall lead the army and I shall be the mother of the great Alexander returning to Macedon with his son to reclaim his inheritance. No Macedonian will stand before such a claim, especially as the army behind me will not be foreign but, rather, the army of Alexander’s betrothed who will one day give birth to a true son of the Argead house. As her father, Aeacides, you may be present, but I think you will agree that you cannot lead, even if you could stand up.’

  Aeacides’ smile was cold, his teeth stained. ‘You think of everything, Olympias.’

  ‘I have to as no one else seems able to.’

  ‘Very well, you lead the army if you wish, but who will actually command it in a way that it doesn’t fall to pieces?’

  ‘Implying that I know nothing of military command.’

  ‘I’m not implying it, I’m stating it.’

  ‘And for once I would agree with you, which is why I had Aristonous bring the boy from Macedon; he will be my general. Now, when will the army be ready?’

  Aeacides gestured his helplessness in the face of such determination. ‘Seven days at the earliest.’

  ‘Good,’ Olympias said in approval. ‘We’ll be through the pass before there’s any danger of snow; we should be in Pella before the onset of winter.’ She glanced again at the ring and then looked at Polyperchon. ‘When will your army arrive here in the north?’

  ‘Ten days or so.’

  ‘Excellent. How long can Tegea hold out?’

  ‘Until next spring at least.’

  ‘Does Kassandros know that?’

  ‘I would have thought so,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘There is always so much toing and froing between the men as so many know each other from before.’

  Olympias considered this for a few moments and then came to a decision. ‘Kassandros will break off his siege once he hears that we’ve invaded; I’m sure of it. He will see Macedon as the greater prize and calculate that he can deal with Tegea in his own time. You come with me and then once we have Macedon secure, I’ll send you south, Polyperchon, to speak to the Aitolians; we need them as our allies, whatever the cost. Get them to hold the Gates of Thermopylae for us against Kassandros.’

  ‘What if they refuse?’

  ‘They won’t, not if you offer them complete independence in the name of the king should they do as they are asked.’

  Polyperchon almost sighed with relief to be once again receiving orders from one with complete confidence in what they were about; and then a thought occurred to him. ‘He has a fleet; he could just sail around them.’

  Olympias smiled at him with cold eyes. ‘Because you managed to lose your fleet? Yes, I’ve thought of that. But you did accomplish one sensible thing whilst you wore the ring: you made Eumenes the general commanding Asia with the right to draw on the treasury at Cyinda. I wrote to him when you first made the offer of my returning to Macedon; he advised me to wait until a more suitable time. That time has now come: I have the child who gives me legitimacy and Eumenes will have ships by now; I’ll order him to bring them, his army and plenty of gold and silver across the Aegean. Kassandros will be crushed between me and Eumenes.’

  EUMENES.

  THE SLY.

  IT WAS, EUMENES had to acknowledge, a bold plan that Olympias put forward. He admired it because it would achieve three things: it would get rid of Kassandros; unite his, Olympias’ and Polyperchon’s forces in Europe thus securing Macedon and Greece; and leave Antigonos and Ptolemy facing one another in Asia. Very satisfactory; let them duel with each other for a while and then we’ll secure Lysimachus’ loyalty – or at least his non-belligerence – and bring our combined armies across the Hellespont and deal with Antigonos with Ptolemy’s help because he would be a fool to refuse us. Perfect. He handed Olympias’ letter to Hieronymus, reclining next to him at the low table covered with the fruits of the sea. ‘I think I should do as she asks; what say you, old friend? And when you’ve finished, you can keep it for your history.’

  Leaving Hieronymus to peruse the letter, Eumenes took his cup, crossed to the window and, leaning on the windowsill, looked down at the busy Syrian port of Rhosus, on the southern shore of the large bay where Alexander had won his stunning victory at Issos. It was a pleasing sight: the harbour, with the theatre standing tall on a slope behind it, was now bursting with the ships he had commandeered in Tarsus and along the coast in his push south into Phoenicia as Ptolemy’s garrisons withdrew before him. Having reached Tyros and realising that he had not the strength – yet – to take it, he had left garrisons in all the major towns and withdrawn to Rhosus where he was amassing his fleet and recruiting hundreds of local Phoenician oarsmen and sailors. He had chosen Rhosus as it was the closest port to Europe that he could safely use for he had intended to send coinage to the cash-starved Polyperchon in Greece in return for Macedonian troops; but now Olympias had offered a bigger prize. He took a long draught of wine in her honour.

  With a growing sense of well-being, he sucked in a deep breath of salt-tanged air and drew himself up to his diminutive full height as he appreciated the sight of such sea-power; almost fifty fighting ships, and as many again of transport, all under the command of his Rhodian naval commander, Sosigenes. He then cast his gaze south to the army camp, just beyond the city walls, covering almost the same area as Rhosus itself and full of newly arrived mercenaries; he did a mental calculation as to how many of them he would be able to embark. Most of them, I should think; I’ll stiffen the garrisons with those we have to leave behind. I’ll speak to Sosigenes and get him to do the arithmetic.

  When news of Eumenes’ new-found wealth and desire to recruit mercenaries had spread throughout Greek cities of Europe and Asia, thousands had flocked to his call; his army had swelled. It’s not far off being a respectable size, he mused as he felt pride in his achievements since withdrawing funds from Cyinda. He had maintained the illusion of Alexander remaining in overall command from beyond the grave by holding a council every morning in the royal tent with the empty throne presiding; Antigenes along with Teutamus had both found it acceptable to receive orders from Eumenes so long as they were framed as Alexander’s will. His other commanders, Sosigenes, Xennias and Parmida had no need of such a ruse.

  Thus Eumenes’ strength had grown by the day and with it his confidence, for he now had legitimacy: he commanded in Asia in the name of the kings and Antigonos was the outlaw. Granted, the sentence of death still hung over his head but that was now no more than a technicality to be rescinded as soon as a full army assembly could be convened once he got to Europe. Defeat Kassander, unite with Olympias and Polyperchon and then take up once again the cause of the kings back in Asia. Or king, more likely. I don’t imagine that Olympias will let the fool live for a moment longer than she can decently allow once we’ve captured him. Eumenes shrugged at the thought. No bad thing so long as the Argead house carries on in the form of the young Alexander; if only half the rumours are true then Adea is just as bad as the eastern wild-cat. Still, now that Olympias has finally got her clutches on the boy-king and Adea has sided with Kassandros, regicide is inevitable; better the fool than the child. And there always remains Kleopatra…

  ‘What news of Antigonos?’ Hieronymus asked from behind him, rolling up Olympias’ letter.

  Eumenes turned, screwing up his face. ‘That’s my one concern: it seems that his fleet, under Nearchos’ command, is still in the north repairing damage and wiping out any last little pockets of resistance to him; but he himself headed south with the bulk of his army as soon as he heard I had gone back on our agreement and taken up Polyperchon’s offer. He could be spotted by our scouts any day.’

  ‘You’ll have to be quick then.’

  ‘I will be; I’ll speak to Sosigenes immediately.’

 
‘The fleet is almost completely crewed and the coinage is due to arrive from Cyinda tomorrow; as soon as it is stowed, lord, we can start embarking the troops,’ Sosigenes, bald but full-bearded with slits for eyes from years of squinting into weather of all kinds, replied with encouraging confidence as they toured the harbour. ‘The whole process should then take no longer than the rest of the day and most of the following one.’

  Eumenes stepped over a large coil of rope. ‘So we could sail for Europe in three days’ time.’

  ‘Depending on the currents in the bay.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They change all the time, lord. To get a fleet this size safely out to sea it would be best if the current is flowing from north to south around the bay, then it will sweep us out, clear of the land. Sometimes it reverses, which is fine for a single ship or a small squadron but not for a fleet this numerous; so many ships getting forced to the apex of the bay would be dangerous.’

  ‘Then we had better hope that Poseidon is with us.’

  Sosigenes pointed to the cliffs to the north of the port. ‘I climb them every morning to see for myself just what the god is up to and he seems to have been behaving himself for the last few days.’ His face took on a mischievous aspect revealing five, almost useless, teeth. ‘But then again it might be nothing to do with Poseidon and solely because the weather has remained settled for so long.’

  Ah, a rational man, I’m beginning to like you, my Rhodian friend. Eumenes grinned and clapped the man on the shoulder. ‘Nevertheless, I’ll have some sacrifices made to the god for his continued cooperation.’

  ‘If you think it will help, lord.’

  ‘Probably not, but it will make the troops feel easier about putting to sea if they know that I’ve despatched a few white bulls. Especially the Silver Shields.’

  ‘Don’t waste your money on good bulls just for the Silver Shields; they are rich enough to afford their own if they really are so frightened of Poseidon.’

  ‘You may well have a point, Sosigenes. I’m going to give them orders to get ready and let them have time to get used to the idea.’ Eumenes turned to go, amused to have found a sailor who did not seem to be one bit superstitious.

  But it was the Silver Shields who were the cause of Eumenes’ next problem as he met with their commander in the royal tent before the empty throne; and it was nothing to do with their superstitions.

  ‘Ptolemy, you say, Antigenes?’

  The grizzled veteran commander of the most elite unit in the whole army nodded and shifted uncomfortably on his folding stool. ‘And not just Ptolemy’s letters but Antigonos’ messengers as well; he’s sent his long-time friend, Philotas, and thirty old soaks who know many of the lads; they’re offering large amounts of money for them to mutiny, kill you and then come over to Antigonos. They’re going to address the lads later.’

  ‘What’s Ptolemy offering?’

  ‘His messengers were just to me and Teutamus; he wants us to kill you.’

  Eumenes was shocked. ‘And you’re admitting this to me?’

  ‘You would have found out sooner or later and then you could well have had me executed for not telling you.’

  ‘And so why did you remain loyal; I’m sure the bounty offered was considerable?’

  Antigenes looked rueful. ‘It was, believe me, it was. But what is money compared to life? Teutamus was all for it, but I reasoned him around. You see, Eumenes, you are a Greek.’

  ‘You don’t say! I’m astounded that you’ve noticed since I’ve tried all these years to hide it. You’ll be telling me you’ve perceived that I’m small in stature next.’

  ‘What I mean, Eumenes, is that you need friends far more than Ptolemy or Antigonos. If we murdered you and then went over to either of them, what’s to stop them killing us for being demonstrably unreliable allies? You, on the other hand, need me and Teutamus alive.’

  Eumenes could not contain his mirth. ‘That is the first time I’ve had the advantage of being Greek explained properly to me by a Macedonian: Greeks need Macedonian friends, however questionable their loyalty, whereas Macedonians can be a little choosier.’

  Antigenes did not share the joke. ‘It’s a genuine consideration, Eumenes, I haven’t come this far just to have my head cut off by someone who paid me to kill a Greek and then decides that I’m expendable; I’ve got far too much wealth in the baggage-train for that. No, I’ll stick with you.’

  ‘And what about your lads?’

  Antigenes’ sun-battered face took on a concerned countenance. ‘That’s the main reason I’ve come to you, Eumenes. They’re about to hold a meeting. If they decide to kill you and go over to Antigonos or Ptolemy, their lives will be spared; no one can ever be responsible for killing the Silver Shields, but—’

  ‘Antigonos or Ptolemy won’t be so squeamish when it comes to you, is that it?’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose so.’

  Eumenes was enjoying himself. ‘And you need me to come and address the lads in order to save your life?’

  ‘And yours.’

  Ah, the Macedonian military mind at its best; brazenly making out he gives a whore’s discharge for a Greek’s safety whilst all the time it’s solely about the consequences for him of my lack of safety. ‘I’m touched by your concern. Shall we go?’

  Antigenes went to the entrance and looked up at the westering sun. ‘They’ll be meeting at dusk; Philotas will be addressing them on their parade ground.’

  ‘And this is signed by Antigonos.’ Philotas held the letter in the air and turned slowly so that all the three thousand men surrounding him could see in the flicker of many flaming torches. ‘And he demands that you should do your duty towards him.’

  Duty to an outlaw; now there’s a new concept, Eumenes considered with a raise of an eyebrow as he stood in the shadows at the rear of the meeting. And I suppose their duty to Antigonos is to murder the legally appointed Commander-in-Chief of Asia.

  ‘You must seize Eumenes immediately and put him to death.’

  Now there’s a surprise.

  ‘If not, Antigonos will consider you to be traitors and bring his army against you.’

  This statement brought howls of protest from the assembly.

  Philotas stood his ground, holding a hand up, palm out, hoping for silence; after a while he could just be heard. ‘One man must speak for you and tell me what is so unreasonable about Antigonos’ demand.’

  An old timer, strong and fit, well into his seventies, shoved his way forward. He stood before Philotas and wagged his finger in his face. ‘We have been ordered by the regent, in the name of the two kings of Macedon, to follow Eumenes and to treat Antigonos as a rebel. By what authority does Antigonos overrule that order?’

  This brought more than a few growls of agreement. Good lads; they may be old and bigoted Macedonians of very little brain, but they know how to obey an order – when it suits them.

  ‘Antigonos was made the overall commander in Asia by Antipatros who, in turn, was appointed regent by Alexander himself.’ Philotas paused to let that name sink in; its magic worked and there was absolute silence. ‘The regency cannot be passed on from one regent to the next; it can only be given by the king. Polyperchon is, therefore, not the regent and therefore his order is not legal; thus Antigonos remains the overall commander in Asia and the little Greek is still outlawed.’

  I was wondering when my height was going to become an important factor in this debate. Mind you, he has made a very good point that I shall be obliged to counter. Eumenes began easing his way through the crowd.

  ‘If Polyperchon is not the regent, then who is?’ the veteran demanded.

  Philotas shrugged in a melodramatic fashion. ‘That is not Antigonos’ problem; he cannot sort out the legal conundrum of how a regent can be appointed when neither king is competent to do so, he can only—’

  ‘Take advantage of the uncertainty for his own ends,’ Eumenes said, his voice loud and carrying as he pushed his way into the
light at the centre of the gathering. ‘Because that’s what he’s doing, isn’t it, Philotas?’

  ‘Eumenes!’

  ‘Yes, well spotted; the sly little Greek in person. I can only assume that Antigonos values your friendship for your powers of observation because it certainly isn’t for your ability to form a coherent argument. It is Antigonos’ problem, in fact it’s everyone’s problem: who is legally the regent? And until that legal conundrum – as you so elegantly put it – is sorted out, then what do we have?’ Eumenes looked around but none seemed to have an answer. ‘Then I shall tell you. We have the next best thing to a regent appointed by Alexander: we have a regent appointed by Alexander’s regent.’ He spread his arms with a flourish, pushing his head forward and widening his eyes. ‘What more can we hope for at the moment? Face it: without Polyperchon we would be leaderless for he is the one who looks after the interests of the Argead royal house, not Antigonos or Ptolemy or even Kassandros for that matter, but Polyperchon. He has the kings’ interests at heart and I support him for that.’ The fact that Adea has taken her pet idiot over to Kassandros can be overlooked for the time being. ‘That being the case you can either do what Antigonos has urged you to do and kill me – and here I am – or accept that I am the legitimate representative of the kings in Asia.’ He held his arms wide and turned full circle. ‘Here I am, lads. Come on, kill me if that’s your decision but know this if you do: you would have committed treason and your lives will be forfeit; not perhaps tomorrow or the next month but once Antigonos is defeated. And defeated he will be, for when the sons of Macedon see that he has no love or honour for the Argead royal house, the rightful rulers of Macedon, they will turn on him and he shall fall and the ancient law of Macedon will prevail.’

  The roar was sudden and deafening; Eumenes punched both arms into the air to milk it. Well, it might have been a bit melodramatic but that’s never a bad thing and it seems to have done the trick – for now. There’s nothing like appealing to a Macedonian’s sense of patriotism; gods, how they love a king.